


No Surer Way

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Stargate - All Series, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4953742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You would think,</i> Tim thinks, <i>that on a team with an actual speedster and several people with super speed, things like this wouldn't happen.</i> </p><p>But no, no.</p><p>Damian decides Tim has no clue what he's talking about - and hey, why <i>not</i> touch the weird alien device? - and Tim is the one who gets to him first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Surer Way

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where to begin, really? Just. Tim and his thing with government agencies and the Stargates and then this happened?
> 
> So many liberties have been taken with both the DC universe and the Stargate one, and pretty much everything ever, so, you know. *hands*
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, also, I will never get over the fact that there's a dinosaur planet in the the Stargate universe, thank you for that SGA! <3!)

”I really don't think - “

“Scared, Drake?”

Bart's eyes go wide, Cassie's eyebrows go up and Kon - 

“Kon, stop that.”

Because Kon sounds like a middle school student when someone knocks a stack of trays over in the cafeteria at lunchtime. Drawn out vowels and hand over his mouth and why, why, why Tim thought he'd matured is beyond him.

“Seriously, though,” Kon says. “What harm is there?”

Tim looks at Kon.

Kon who was a founding member of Young Justice and a valuable member of the Teen Titans, and as such, should know better than to say something like that out loud. (You never know who – or what – could be listening, after all.)

“Oh, I don't know,” Tim says, waves his hand in a lazy circle. “Maybe the fact that we're jinxed?”

Not officially as far as Tim knows, just.

It's probably best if they get the weird alien tech somewhere safe before they start poking and prodding it. (Tim recognizes some of the symbols, knows he's going to have to make a discrete call when they get back to the Tower.)

“ _Tt._ ”

Tim barely hears it, busy trying to impart the fact that _he is not kidding here, Kon, don't you dare think he is_ , to Kon using the power of his mind alone. Unable to get the words out past the jumbled knot of _are you actually kidding me here_ in his throat.

Tim stumbles when Damian deliberately bumps into him on his way to the device, and he looks up in time to see Damian reach out to it.

“Damian, don't - “ Tim starts, words drying up as the device lets out a hiccuping cough and the symbols along one side light up, a bright blue-white.

He hears the others faintly, distantly, as he goes for Damian and feels a surge of annoyance because of course, _of course_ , the little brat has the Ancient gene, of course he does.

Tim feels fingers snag on the edges of his cape and doesn't hesitate as he hits the release, steps slowed at the slight drag of it before he reaches the alcove the device is sitting in.

 _You would think,_ Tim thinks, _that on a team with an actual speedster and several people with super speed, things like this wouldn't happen._

But no, no.

Damian decides Tim has no clue what he's talking about - and hey, why _not_ touch the weird alien device? - and Tim is the one who gets to him first.

A low hum fills the air, ground beneath their feet rumbling, spreading up through his feet and legs to his rib cage and -

Fear spikes as Tim sees a panel above the device made to look like the rock wall of the cave slides open, the same blue-white light as the symbols washing down over the podium the device sits on towards Damian.

“Dammit, Damian!”

There's only one way to do this, because the alcove the device is situated in is small, cramped, and really, this is kind of Tim's luck lately. (Or always, if he's going to be brutally honest.)

Tim leaps, grabs the end of Damian's cape and _pulls_ , twisting to the side so Damian goes flying back into his arms and he curls around him as the light hits them, the low humming stopping mid-note, and everything goes blinding white.

********

“Drake, this is not the time for a nap.”

Tim groans, tries to pull away from the firm grip on his chin that's this side of painful - 

“ _Drake_.”

Tim's eyes snap open inches from Damian's own.

“What - “

“There is a situation.”

Tim stares at Damian.

“A situation.”

Damian sneers, releasing Tim's face to take a step back and gestures at their surroundings.

Slowly, carefully, Tim sits up.

His head hurts, low steady ache and the rest of him seems to be in the same boat, but nothing life threatening. (Or nothing that will keep him off his feet, at least.)

“This isn't the cave,” Tim says, resists the urge to roll his eyes as Damian gives him a pointed look.

“Very astute of you, Drake.”

Tim does sigh, because. 

Well.

The situation seems to call for it.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

He gets a snort and a short nod, Damian shifting slightly when Tim _looks_ at him.

“I'm uninjured.”

So much like Bruce, really. 

“Right,” Tim says. “We're talking about non-fatal injuries too, right? I mean. Just to be clear.”

Tim laughs at the low growl and Damian's muttered imprecations on Tim's ancestry as Tim takes stock of their surroundings. 

Still a cave, if not the one they were in earlier, and given the nature of the device Damian managed to activate - 

“What are you looking at, Drake?”

Damian's scowling at him, arms crossed over his chest.

The corner of Tim's mouth tugs up at the belligerent expression on his face.

“We're going to have to have a long talk when we get back to the Tower,” Tim says.

That whole don't touch things if you don't know what they are, especially if someone else who might know what it is tells you not to, lecture. (Among other things.)

...And then an even longer one back in Gotham with Bruce, because this. Damian being a carrier of the Ancient gene is important. Whether it's something he inherited from Bruce's side or Talia's could be even more so.

“Drake?”

“Have you had any luck with the comms?”

Damian shakes his head. “No.”

Tim cocks his head.

“I regained consciousness not long before you did, I haven't had the opportunity to explore our surroundings.”

Damian sounds annoyed by that, which.

“Well, no time like the present,” Tim says, goes for an obnoxious note of cheerfulness he learned from Dick.

“Tt.”

********

It had been a vague sort of hope that the cave's walls were interfering with their comm, but - 

“Uh-oh.”

“Drake.”

Tim very carefully ignores Damian's glare as he looks out on what is possibly (clearly) alien world.

It's not so much the landscape, no. That looks like it could have been lifted from almost anywhere in Northern America. 

Early morning mist curled around the trunks of the evergreens at the edge of the clearing the cave entrance opens up in. Lush ferns and curious looking bushes with what look like berries or some kind of fruit, bright spots of color in the gloom.

No, it's the wildlife that's the tip-off here.

“I wasn't aware rodents grew that big.”

A stray line of dialogue from a movie runs through Tim's mind concerning rodents of unusual size, but all he says is, “Capybaras.”

Damian sighs. “I doubt even capybaras get that large, Drake. That creature is the size of a horse.”

A draft horse, Tim would guess. 

A very healthy draft horse. 

And it has friends.

Creeping out of the forest around the clearing, wary, uneasy. Scenting the air for threats.

Ones that are much, much bigger than it, which means the one they first one they saw is one of their young.

They look like they could be from Earth, an evolutionary stage, perhaps, but - 

“They have fangs.”

And what look like vestigial wings on their backs, flicking away buzzing flies and biting insects like a tail or elephant's ear.

“Yeah,” Tim says, reaching out to push Damian behind him when the ROUSes lift their heads to look at them. “Something tells me we're not in Kansas anymore.”

Damian snorts, and when Tim glances at him, the brat's sneering at him.

Surprisingly, the sneer and Damian's ire aren't directed at Tim this time.

“ _Grayson,_ Damian growls, with surprising vehemence. 

It takes a beat for Tim to realize what Damian means, but then Tim remembers all of Dick's weekly movie nights. Supposedly to help Damian catch up on his pop culture references, but really. 

It's all about the (enforced) bonding. 

“Well, that too,” Tim says.

One of the ROUSes lets out an alarmed cry, the others in its - herd? pack? - echoing it, and Tim shoves Damian into the cave when something bursts through the treeline. Huge, head on a level with the trees that tower over the clearing, rough, pebbled hide as it roars, the sound deafening.

“That,” Damian says, voice dropped low, hand gripping Tim's arm. “Looks like a dinosaur.”

“Tyrannosaurs Rex?” Tim guesses from the silhouette made infamous thanks to Hollywood.

“Drake.”

“Time to go,” Tim says, turning and pushing Damian ahead of him back the way they came.

The dinosaur – _dinosaur_ \- is focused on the ROUSes and thankfully doesn't notice them.

********

The cave they'd woken up in is part of a larger network. 

One tunnel leads out into what seemed like a pleasant little clearing, babbling brook somewhere off in the forest beyond, and giants rodents and a very hungry dinosaur. (Tim has that one marked in his head for later, hopefully when the dinosaur isn't present because they're going to need water at some point, and at the moment that's their best bet.)

The tunnel they'd chosen to explore after that had lead them to a dead end created by rockfall and the remains of a crashed ship, alien in origin.

“You know something.”

Tim rolls his head to look at Damian.

“I know a lot of things, care to be specific?”

“Drake.”

Tim sighs, rubs the palm of his hand on his thigh and grimaces at the sharp little stings caused by sharp-edged stones and twisted metal.

They've spent the last hours trying to dig a hatch in the ship free, hoping to find something useful inside. A way out of this mess, maybe, or just call for help.

This is supposed to be a break, five minutes of Damian not glaring at him and throwing off irritated and judgmental vibes towards Tim.

But no, no. 

Tim chews on his lip, wondering just how binding a nondisclosure agreement can be when Tim's legal name isn't on there. 

“Did you ever hear about the Stargate Program?” Tim asks.

The lenses on Damian's mask are up, and Tim smiles at the confused blink.

“What?”

Tim hums, tries to think of a name Damian might recognize.

“Drake?”

“Chappa'ai?” Tim offers, nose wrinkling at his pronunciation. 

Damian's eyes narrow. “Myth,” he snaps. “Myth and legend.”

Tim looks at Damian, how offended he looks, and can't help the laugh that breaks free.

“ Damian,” Tim says, gesturing art himself, at Damian, and oh, God, why is this so stupidly funny? “ _Really_?”

Damian growls, pressing hard against the section of wall he's resting against.

“I'd be surprised if Ra's doesn't know about them,” Tim says. 

Surprised and worried, really, given everything.

“They're stories,” Damian insists. “Tales told to keep children in line.”

Something about the way Damian says that - 

Damian bares his teeth when he sees the look on Tim's face, and turns to glare at the crashed ship instead.

“They're not just stories,” Tim says. “The Stargates are real, and there's a government agency whose purpose is to explore the worlds on the other side of them.”

Damian's jaw works for a moment, and then his head snaps around.

“How do you know about it?”

Tim.

“I - “

“Drake.”

“I have a.” He's not really a relative, no. Just. 

“My dad,” Tim says, and feels his smile going crooked at the look Damian gives him when Tim's voice falters. “He had. I guess they were colleagues of a sort? He was an archaeologist and I guess he'd heard or my dad or the other way around, and he'd write to him. Call him up to talk about theories he had or just something new he found, I don't really know the details.”

(And really, given the fact that so many of Earth's superheroes aren't even human, you'd think the man's theories about the pyramids wouldn't be quite so ridiculed.)

“Do you have a point, Drake?”

Tim snorts. 

“This guy,” Tim says. “Figured out a way to get one working again.”

It makes Tim wonder, a little, if he'd ever regretted doing so given some of the things he'd told Tim when they met face to face for the first time.

“Long story short,” Tim says, at the way Damian's clearly losing patience. “The Stargates are real and the people who built them left their stuff behind where people can stumble over them.”

Tim's managed to get his hands on some of the reports coming out of Cheyenne Mountain, and the overall picture doesn't paint these Ancients in a good light. 

Still.

He'd thought they needed the Stargates to transport people across planets, unless this is something else. 

Maybe this is something new, something the SGC doesn't know about, which. 

Perfect, really.

“You sound insane.”

Tim shrugs, thinking back a few years to when he'd had a little run-in with the Trust when he decided to look into his dad's old colleague's whereabouts.

“Imagine my face when I first found out about this.”

********

They don't have a lot of luck deciphering the language in the ship's computers when they manage to get inside.

“You'd think,” Tim says, tapping a glowing glyph on the alien version of a keyboard. “Between the languages we know, this would be easier.”

He can feel Damian's glare.

“Ridiculous,” he mutters.

Tim shrugs, glances at him. “Most of the races who use the Stargates originated on Earth,” he points out. “A lot of them use the same languages.”

In a way, because language evolves over time. And given how long Earth was cut off from the Stargate network...

Well, Tim's dad's friend is a linguist. That had to help some.

Tim smiles a little at Damian's grumbling, and keeps poking through the computer hoping to find something they can use.

“This looks promising.”

Damian looks up at the image on one of the screens. 

A map of sorts.

“How do we know that's a map of this world?”

Point.

Tim shrugs, rotates the map and zooms in on a section.

“That looks like the clearing we found.” 

Damian's silently judging him.

“And that could be this ravine. You know, without the crashed ship and all.”

A heavy, very much put upon sigh from Damian.

“And, oh. Hey. Look at that.”

A Stargate.

********

“Only you, Drake, only you!”

Tim feels a laugh bubbling up as he grabs Damian's arm and drags him up, back onto his feet.

They're being chased by what looks very much like an angry Ankylosaurus they'd managed to startle and really, it's going to be a long trip home.

**Author's Note:**

> I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them. 
> 
> ~Mark Twain


End file.
